LOV
EAT FIRST BITE
The
Spontaneous Ignition Of Fire Of The Souls
(Legally
Available In 9 Days)
One
Making dinner
Boiling water
Scrape a sticky patch
off the floor
Sex seems continents
away
I miss you.
Left-overs it is
A rehash of empties
Recycle all that glass
There has got to be 5
cents a piece.
Nine days of practice
Mourning still
I won’t wear black
though
Too obvious
Far too obvious because
really
There was no death.
A near miss
Gabby Gifford’s
madman shooter-
She needs a year
Nice to see her walk
Off with her husband
like that.
Make-up all done
Smiling.
No grief for Tuesday
Take in small doses
Devour
Slowly
As slow as monsters can
If you can still see
Clearly
Do it again
Just to ensure it’s
working properly
On your tear chemistry.
It’s a damn shame
What people do to each
other.
STOP READING THIS
BEFORE ITS DONE!
-These days.
That ex-boyfriend’s
sharp-as-glass-shards words
Surface from the
subconscious
Bubble up
Through
Thick liquids.
I wipe it off again
Like the stove counters
Move on, move on.
There is sun in the
room
It reveals
Food splatters from
Our fights
I am embarrassed
To be left
With the memory.
Hanging from the wall
paper
The flowers
Disfigured by
Sauces
Now brown
Deformed
On the beige texture
Topped with a noodle
Grape soda
And potato.
I get to clean it
I get to remember
Thought I would choose
to ignore the situation
Maybe drown it out with
music
A bit
Cleanse my palette
Arrest the phantom
telephone ringing
Ringing
To where I snap off the
radio
To check
And see if it is.
I believe I will catch
some
Poison
From it all
Catch my breath
It escapes me
Red balloons and knives
Black poison forming
In the rot of the food
In the absence of you.
7 Days
I try cleaning this
mess
With my opposite hand
It’s not so bad
I won’t die
Your love at first bite
Your luv eat first bite
My kitchen
Your heart
A bowl full of mixed
vegetables.
Skully Cross Bones and Performers
I wander
Slow motion through the
sanitized mall
Catch
My reflection
Long tan coat
Tall androgynous
looking figure
Respectable enough
To walk through a mall
Still oddly shaped
though;
Spiky geometric shape
A type of wobble
Hard to measure
Or calibrate
I figure
A shape with a curved
bottom and two or three peaks on top.
The shop girl arranges
the t-shirts
The janitor has a gaze
as silent as my own
I turn at the smell of
toasting bread
Some faint dill
dressings float by my nose
There are cans of soda
I just don’t want.
This place
Was designed
By rodeo clowns with a
glass fetish.
I freeze in place
Stick my arms straight
out.
No one blinks.
Three (Forests)
I miss the green
Laden with snow
The moan of the weight
The crows all bugging
each other.
I can’t tell you
How big the sky is
I write from home
The papers from the
note pad
Are small
Manila
And flying
All around the room.
I pull off each sheet
Then the next
And another
Et cetera.
But seeing only this
Macrovision texture on
bark
The stick of pine
No smog darling
No cement big city
No argument
Harsh collision
No cramped quarters
No cut in line
Only movement
In response to
Breeze.
I duck behind branches
Hide from nothing
Shelter my face
From sharp ice
A stinging slap
A very rude forest
A clever ruse.
When it snows there is
a real quiet.
Worlds
How many worlds can I
meet you in?
Dive through the waters
Deeper
And deeper
Get’s darker every
minute
Strange fish, older
than we’ve ever been
A watery grave
Us dancing
Arms hooked
Turning like slow
motion
The silt
Stirring
Knowing to surface
Will give us the bends
Crippled on the small
Life boat
Exposed like turtles
Shells
Down
Bellies in the sun.
Growing Up
Its eMaggeddon
The real Maggeddon
Tornadoes in January
Lost puppies
I can not stop crying
There are no borders
It is leap year
And I am supposed to
ask you to marry me.
It is popular to
witness
The moral melt down
A move towards
Women with nothing to
say
I am half-way
Through
My life span
Our world
Grows
Incrementally smaller
and smaller
New York Nashville
Toronto
All in
One place now
A world of wires
Faster than we blink.
We collect in puddles
No more wait
To cross ponds
Some so challenged
To see the view
Right in front of their
eyes.
I pour sand on my steps
To make sure no one
slips
Tokyo cleans the
windows
Polished surfaces
For perfect vision.
It is a marathon for
morality
A search for similarity
Groups seek same
Like a hotel full of
cowboys
We find our own
Like wolves
Weird children
Mutants.
Say nothing for how.
We recognize our own
By taste
Same flavour
Same markings
Expressed
Beautiful
Representing something
intangible.
I get leg cramps
Every single morning
Evenings the same
Pretty much oversize at
birth
My mother wondering why
And now
Beyond saving
Manufactured jeans will
never fit
Blend in with coloured
dots
Impossible
My clan
Cloaked ephemeral
cyborg
Often in shadow
In puddles
Each of us with one toe
In the water.
It is a new language
ADD OCD PHD
Double entendre
A thank you for the
dance
A YVW
A bing sound
A vibrate
The Russian Pavlov
would drool himself.
We find each other
blind folded in the dark
Excited
That there were more
Message sent
By means of pony
Or pigeon
But no more than that
yet
No secret handshakes
these days
We rely on recall
Like fictional spies
From black and white
movies.
Shoveling Snow
It is still cold here
But the sun is out
Frigid
Some power in the dark
Winds gust
Snow blasts by
Like ghosts
I have to dig us out
again
Solid blocks of ice
Only charming for
things like sculpture
Everything immobilized
by
Glassy covers.
It is pretty
A lovely cleanse
Kills everything
A snap purification.
In the clean though,
is the task of moving.
That damn taxi has been
Idling
Outside my house
With the meter running
For seven days now.
A backwoods trailer
Looks appealing right
now
The rage stems from
Not being
Able to hear
Or see yourself
A kind of blindness
Inability to sort
through thoughts:
Mine from yours
Yours from theirs
Outside
Like socks
It is so good
So good
All artists now report
to the Big Machine
Big minds work for
bigger giants
Making it all up
Not for God or love or
The human condition
But to tell you
Happiness is wrapped in
plastic only 7.99.
The resulting vortex is
fearsome
Lost nuance
No suggestion
But command
Washing our clothes
Washing our brains at
the same.
The spider grows too
The evolution
Of web
Created as fast as
nothing
Unpopular
It’s desires
Survive.
Broomhilda
I inherited a push
broom
And
heard the opera at the same time
Broomhilda
Lost
in a sea of inconsolability
Returns
her cursed ring to the Rhinestone Maidens
Valhalla
is burning
I
sweep the floors
There
are piles of junk and sneakers
Refused
invitations
Candy
wrappers
Stuff
is everywhere.
I
dream of an enormous dog outside a window
It
attacks children but there is no blood from bites
I
refuse to stand down
And
usher the children inside.
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